If Only
by BlairCorneliaBass
Summary: The ways Chuck and Blair could have gotten/stayed together for each episode. one-shot collection
1. VictorVictrola

A/N: So this will be a collection of one-shots of how Chuck and Blair could have either gotten together or stayed together in each episode, starting from 1x7 (Victor, Victrola). Some of them will be very short and some will be longer. This one is very short because I have written this scene 3 times before, and wanted to try something different. Anyway, the main thing to remember is that for the next episode, the slate is wiped clean, so any previous chapters did not happen. Hope you like it!

**If Only**

Victor/Victrola

Limbs entwined, the sweat acting like a glue to solder them together; panting breaths creating cacophonies in the wide limo; no words spoken but gazes speaking volumes. A whole other world created in the mere distance from a club to a townhouse.

The driver's voice over the intercom dispels the illusion and they realize that real life has returned. She stares out at the bright lights of her home, mottled and distorted from the tint of his windows. She knows what will happen when she steps into the harsh light, the cold white house, unnaturally clean and silent.

"You're home," he murmurs next to her, making her head turn to see him. For a moment, her eyes need to readjust to the darkness of his limousine. His irises are black in the night and they tell her that he wants her to stay. His arms around her are warm and strong, wrapping her like a cocoon.

Maybe if she stays, she will emerge as something new. Something different.

"Can I stay with you?" she asks, uncertainty making it less than a whisper.

The darkness does not lighten in his eyes but warms, melts. His answer does not come in words, but as his lips descend hers, he tells her much more. Her eyes close again to the black.

Her whole life she had lived under the bright, scrutinizing light, but tonight, she finds she prefers the dark.


	2. Seventeen Candles

**Seventeen Candles**

"Do you... _like_ me?"

He took a deep breath. Her question was carefully worded, the tone cautious. There was no way to tell whether his answer would be received with gladness or repulsion. But considering it was Blair Waldorf he was talking to, he was betting on the latter.

But there was just the slightest chance that she might react differently.

He compromised. "Define like." It nearly stammered from him.

She stared at him, her hand covering her mouth. "Oh no," she whispered.

He felt the immediate need to defend himself, to salvage his pride. If she was going to scoff at his feelings, she should know how ashamed he had been for feeling them in the first place.

His words burst out of him angrily. "How do you think _I_ feel? I haven't _slept_, I feel _sick_, like there's something in my stomach... fluttering," he finished lamely.

She continued to stare at him with huge eyes. "Butterflies?" she asked quietly.

There was an awkward silence for a beat, which inherently answered her question in the affirmative.

"Oh thank god it wasn't just me!" she exclaimed, pouncing on him and sealing his lips on hers.

Chuck was not stupid, but his brain must have lost a significant amount of cells because it was blank with shock for a few minutes. When his senses returned he pulled away from her lips to stare down at her, panting heavily.

"Wait so... you too?"

She nodded fervently. "Feeling sick, can't sleep- did you get the clammy hands too?"

His eyes widened. "_Yes_!"

She shook her head slightly, as if in confused disbelief, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. "It's so weird- I never felt these things with Nate before..."

They stared at each other like it was a revelation from the heavens themselves. And then he was the one frantically pulling her close, his lips clinging to hers again, her hands cupping his face.

But he pulled back again. "Then why did you act like such a bitch earlier?" he couldn't help asking with a tinge of resentment.

She huffed loudly and rolled her eyes. "Because you're Chuck Bass! Why would I ever think you would be feeling the same way- I figured when you invited me for breakfast it was for a three-way!"

Now he rolled his eyes.

"Besides," she continued, playing with his lapel then looking up at him with a gleam in her eye. "You _like_ me because I'm a bitch."

He raised an eyebrow and regarded her cautiously. Damn it, why had he revealed so much?

"So you... _like_ me?" he pressed.

She looked to the ceiling, pursing her lips as if she were considering. She returned to his gaze with a flirtatious smile. "Define like."

He had his answer. He pulled her into his arms, bringing his lips centimeters away from hers before whispering, "we'll come up with our own definition."

Elation, passion, and _liking_ each other made them near frantic to get close. When their lips and hands turned too greedy, he pulled away and began leading her back to the party where they could find a room with more privacy. "C'mon. Let me give you your birthday presents."

Her eyes lit up. "Present_s_? Well, well, Chuck Bass, you are a quick learner."

He smiled. "The first one, you get to put something on," he teased, then his eyes roved over the curves encased in her black dress. "And for the second, you're going to have to take stuff off."

She smiled eagerly as they backed into an empty room. "I think I'm going to like the second one better, Chuck."

A/N: This is more the style I'm planning for the rest of the chapters- I think the first one came off rather poetic-like because I wanted to do something different. I was thinking of making this smutty (because I love smut), but I think I want to keep these fluffy, although I'll most likely make an exception for episodes like 2x7. Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews! I love them!


	3. Blair Waldorf Must Pie

**Blair Waldorf Must Pie**

It was her worst Thanksgiving ever. And that in itself was horrible because it had always been her favorite holiday before. Maybe now she would hate it. If she always had to spend it alone with her mother she would definitely hate it.

Blair sat on the probably more-clean-than-most bathroom floor of her bedroom, leaning against the door. It had been so long since she had wanted to purge, and now she had failed. And it was just such a stupid, revolting thing to do- eating a whole pie then throwing it up in a toilet? She disgusted herself.

She needed an escape, some way to distract her from the horrid events of today. Her first thought was to call Serena, but then she recalled the fight they'd had earlier. All because she had told her about sleeping with Chuck- as if she had any right to judge! Not to mention, Blair knew all about the drunken, coked up way Serena had lost _her_ virginity and the greasy, middleclass investment banker to whom she'd lost it. That made her nights with Chuck look like a fairytale.

Maybe it was out of spite for what Serena had done. Maybe it was because she didn't have anyone else to call. Maybe because she actually, sort of wanted to talk to him.

But Blair held out her phone and dialed Chuck's number. As far as she knew, he was supposed to be staying home for the holiday.

He answered on the second ring.

"Waldorf?" he drawled, sounding pleasantly surprised. "Miss me already? It has only been one day."

"Bass." She cleared her throat quietly and worked to keep any sound of her previous tears from her voice. "How is your Thanksgiving?"

There was a slight pause and she worried for a second that he would have noticed something off in her voice. But that was silly because it was _Chuck Bass_ she was talking to; the boy didn't have emotions himself so there was no way he'd recognize them in others.

"Happy as ever," he answered drily. "I have no idea why Bart insists I always stick around for it since _he's_ never here."

Somehow her tears were starting again and she couldn't answer him verbally without clueing him in.

"But then, I suppose I shouldn't really complain about him not being here," Chuck continued, pausing only the slightest as if he wondered about her lack of response. "How's your Thanksgiving, Waldorf?"

She wanted to stop the tears; she tried to calm herself enough to answer him. But amidst the silence on her end came a short, desperate sob from her mouth which she quickly clapped her hand over.

There was a shocked beat of silence as she imagined his utter puzzlement, and most likely terror at being confronted with an emotional situation.

"Are you..." he fumbled over the syllables for a second. "Are you _crying_?"

She snapped her phone shut and threw it to the side. What had she been thinking, calling Chuck Bass for comfort? It was about as asinine as sleeping with him had been!

Five seconds later her phone was ringing again. She glanced cursorily at the screen to see his name again. She let it ring until right before it went to voicemail and finally picked it up.

"Why did you hang up?!" came his immediate greeting.

"Because when someone is crying you don't just comment about it!" she retorted angrily.

"Fine. Why are you crying Waldorf?"

"Because this is the worst holiday ever and even though there's a room full of people downstairs, including my mother, I've never felt more alone in my life!" The sobs started again and this time she didn't cover them up.

She supposed this would be where Chuck Bass would say, "get over it" or "and I would care because?" and then hang up on her, and at least by then she would have learned her lesson enough to never sleep with him again. She could always destroy his life after the holiday break.

But he didn't. His voice was surpsingly gentle when he answered with a simple, "me too."

That made her pause, calmed her sobs enough to short hiccoughing.

"I've always hated this holiday because we never spent it the way you're supposed to," he continued in that quiet voice. "Bart somehow thinks that as long as _I'm_ home it counts I guess."

She grabbed a tissue and blew into it quietly.

"What do you say, Waldorf? How about we have Thanksgiving together- our way?"

She breathed in and out, surprise making her pause for a second.

But this was the perfect escape she had been looking for. "Yes," she agreed, standing up and straightening her clothes.

"I'll send the limo," he replied before hanging up.

They did all of the traditions of the holiday that they wanted, and created some new ones. She was able to forget all that happened earlier and it might actually have turned out to be one of her better Thanksgivings.

Over dinner, he asked what she was grateful for this year, and she stared at him softly before taking another bite of her pumpkin pie.

"You."

A/N: Okay, this one I really wish had happened because they probably were having really lonely holidays and hello, it would have made total sense for them to spend it with each other. Oh well, anyway, sorry for the short hiatus (midterms are up), but I'm going to let this story be for a bit just because I feel bad for neglecting my other ones, not to mention I'm not sure how I want to do 1x12. Any suggestions? You guys are great.


	4. Hi Society version 1

A/N: So, I knew this would happen for some of the episodes sooner or later. Basically there were two ideas that I had and I couldn't decide between them, so I'm posting alternate versions. In the Chuck version, basically it's Chuck's job to apologize, and in the Blair version it's her turn to apologize. But they are completely seperate, so there's no other tie between them. Hopefully everyone can understand what's going on. I'll probably get the Blair version up later today.

**Hi, Society**

**Chuck version**

"Don't talk to me!"

She stalked away from him and the swell of dancing couples and he felt his heart plummeting. This had _so_ not been a part of his plan. The point was to get them together and now it seemed it had only driven them apart.

But then, he had learned that when it came to Blair Waldorf, there was nothing you could plan for.

No one else would understand that. Everyone knew her as the perfect society princess, but she had showed only to him the wild, untameable passion inside of the ice queen.

And he'd never get tired of it.

And he couldn't ever let her go now.

A minute after her departure he started searching among the dancing crowds. But she was upset, she would want to be alone. He went outside of the dance floor, searching around the building. He could see nothing, and he was becoming desperate when he spotted a girl coming down the staircase from the second floor.

"Hey- have you seen Blair Waldorf?"

She nodded and indicated up the stairs with a hand. "Up there."

He bounded up the steps, not sure what he would find when he did.

But what he did find, when he saw her in a shadowed corner, stopped him in his tracks for a second.

She was _crying_.

Chuck had made a lot of people cry in his lifetime- but he never would have thought it possible for him to make Blair Waldorf cry.

He cleared his throat softly and her face snapped in surprise to him.

"Oh god," she muttered, rolling her eyes and turning away so that he couldn't see the tears rolling down her face. But he knew of course.

"Blair," he began, closing the distance between them and placing a tentative hand on her arm. She shoved away from him angrily.

"I'm not crying over _you_," she disparaged bitingly, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm crying because my perfect night was ruined and it's _your_ fault."

He swallowed hard. He knew he had to apologize, and he would. Because she deserved it and he didn't want to lose her.

"Look, I'm sorry," he ground out. He paused for a beat to make sure she was listening. Her head was still turned away from him. "I admit it; I did want to ruin your night." She made a muffled sound, like a sob, and he saw her fist tighten on her dress. "But it was only because I was so jealous over you and Nate."

She turned to look at him, eyes hard. "I told you, we just went as friends." She brought up a hand to wipe away the remains of her tears aggravatedly. "Besides, why do you care? All we're doing is having sex with each other, Chuck."

Her words burned him. He would have walked away in defeat were it not for the tremble in her voice as she said it, or how she averted her eyes from him now.

Hope burgeoned inside him and he slowly lifted her chin with a finger so he could look into her eyes.

"It isn't for me, Waldorf," he admitted quietly.

She stared at him, her eyes guarded, as if she didn't want to show any weakness.

"What do you mean?"

He let out a long breath before answering. He hated the vulnerability of all of this. But it was worth it if he got to keep her. "It was never just sex for me. I haven't felt like this for any other girl. And I've known it since that first night."

Seconds passed by and in them, her eyes slowly softened. She took a cautious step closer to him.

"You didn't murder the butterflies afterall, did you?" she murmured, slight awe in her voice.

He brought her up close to him, wrapping his arms around her. "I called PETA. They said mine are on the endangered species list; I had no choice." He kissed her softly. "No one can murder them now."

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him fervently. Even just the feel of her lips pierced through his soul. How could she ever have thought they were just having sex?

When she broke off, she was breathless. "Bass, I'm officially _on_ you now."

His lips twitched. "Literally or metaphorically speaking?"

She grinned. "We'll get to the literal later; right now, I want to go back down there and show you off."

"Now who's using who as an accessory?"

They threaded their hands together and walked back down to the dance, and for the whole night they never parted.


	5. Hi Society version 2

**Hi, Society**

**Blair version**

Chuck Bass was in his suite flinging couture pants, shirts, and of course, scarves into his suitcase. He had could have someone else do it for him, but he really needed the distraction, as well as a physical outlet for all of his pentup rage.

The image of Blair and Nate pressed together as they entered that room at cotillion replayed over and over in his head like the world's worst romantic comedy. Until he imagined what must be happening next and then it became a disgusting porno. And Chuck Bass had never applied the word disgusting to porno before.

It had been so painful; he was sure he had never felt such pain in his life before. He cursed her, he cursed himself, he regretted every single moment of the past few weeks with her even when just before he'd thought they were the happiest of his existence.

Never again. He would never let this happen again, and certainly not for her.

Maybe it was because of the fury of his movements or the constant stream of profanity in his head that he did not hear her enter. That was the first time he regretted giving her her own key to his suite. She had always used it in more pleasant surprises before.

It was her delicate cough which first alerted him to her presence. He looked at her over his shoulder, vaguely noticing that she was still in her ballgown. And though her sudden appearance shocked and intrigued him, he was too hurt to show her anything but the hatred he felt for her right now.

She probably only stopped by to make sure he wouldn't say anything to Nate. At least he couldn't see her post-coital glow.

He glared at her and she gazed steadily at him, neither speaking for long minutes. Until she finally broke it.

"I kissed Nate."

His eyes closed in anger and he turned back to his suitcase, throwing clothes in once more. He hated lying. "I got a pretty good look at it what you were doing with Nate."

She moved closer to him. "What?"

He kept his eyes trained on packing. "I was looking for you. I was going to _apologize_, and then guess what I saw? You and Nate cuddling up on the second floor." He slammed the suitcase shut. "Congrats B, you finally got what you wanted. However, if you don't mind, I'd rather pass on the details."

He had been determined to not look at her while speaking, because he was sure that if he did it would bring out too emotion. However, when the silence that followed his speech finally made him look up.

She was staring at him, drawing her head high and squaring her shoulders. "I didn't have sex with him," she declared in a quiet voice.

That finally made him pause.

She sighed and paced around a bit. "I was so angry at you, and all I could think about was revenge. And he was my boyfriend for so long, I thought it was how it should be. But when he kissed me and I saw the bed, I- I just couldn't do it, it didn't feel right." She shook her head back and forth slowly, moving close enough to touch him. "He wasn't you."

He felt a surge of hope then, which automatically made him lash out, wanting to quell it so he wouldn't be further disappointed.

"That's what years of practice will do for you, Waldorf," he sneered. "But I should hope you'd comprehended my sexual prowess over Nathaniel's well before that."

"I didn't mean it like that!" she insisted, fisting her hands on his jacket. "It's different... with us."

His eyes narrowed, not wanting to accept her words. "Different how?"

Her gaze quavered under his and she sat down on the edge of his bed.

"I know I should say I'm sorry for what happened tonight, but I'm not really because it made me finally realize something," she said quietly, staring at her lap and then slowly meeting his gaze. "You're better than him."

He could only stare at her.

"You're better than him at understanding me, and making me happy. I like who I am when I'm with you."

He swallowed, and perhaps that clued her in. She was so good at seeing the weaknesses of others, sniffing out the chink in their armor. She stepped up once more and put her arms tentatively on his shoulders. He took a deep breath and her scent all but entranced him. As it always had.

"I want to tell Nate about us, I don't care who knows anymore. I just want to be with you."

Damn her. How could she have shattered him completely, and then put all the pieces back together, making them stronger, brighter, perfect- all within the same night?

She would be the death of him.

But as Chuck pulled her closer and branded his lips to hers, he knew, this kind of death was be so much better than the life he'd had before.

"So... want to go to Monaco?"


	6. Roman Holiday

A/N:So I just realized that I had forgotten to do a chapter for episode 9, which I will probably post later today. You guys have been so wonderful in your reviews, it makes me so happy.

**Roman Holiday**

Blair Waldorf didn't know what she was doing here in the Bass hotel in Monaco. It was her winter break from scool, but she certainly was not here on holiday.

Two days ago had been her lovely debutante cotillion, the one she had been preparing and planning for her whole life. So how it ended up being downright horrible, she had no idea. Well, she supposed now she understood why it had gone horrible, and mainly it was because of her.

To be fair, she thought that Chuck was a total brute for scheming his way into ruining her night. However, it wasn't until well after that she realized it wasn't totally for his self-gratification, but mainly because he was jealous. Unfortunately, this thought process occured after she had already slept with Nate.

And Blair was not going to feel too much guilt for doing that. After all, she _had_ broken things off with Chuck before- it wasn't technically cheating. Even if it was just three minutes after she had told him, "it's over."

She had thought she was making the right decision; Nate was obviously so perfect for her and would never have treated her in such a manner. But as they lay on the bed afterwards, she knew that something had irrevocably changed in her. She was a different person, and that person did not belong with Nate Archibald.

But she did have an idea of just to whom she might belong.

And that's why she was here in Monaco, having gleaned the information of Chuck's whereabouts from his father because he hadn't been answering any of her calls. She was in the hotel's casino, dressed to the nines and searching the crowd from her spot at the bar. She knew Chuck would have to appear _sometime_ and she would be ready when he did.

But when it finally turned to midnight and he still hadn't showed, she had to give up, at least for the day. This was horrible and depressing and she needed to go to bed. What on earth was Chuck Bass doing if not at the bar or the casino?

She made her way to her room sluggishly. The minute she stepped in she got in her silk PJs and washed off her make-up. And as she climbed into the pillowy softness that was her bed, she knew she was going to have a restful night's sleep.

That was when the noises started. Moans, gasps, and screams. From the room next to her.

It was _disgusting_! No one could possibly sleep under such noise, even if such noise wasn't so absolutely revolting in nature. She banged on the wall a couple of times to shut the amorous couple up. And the noises did pause for about ten seconds. And then they became louder.

Blair Waldorf was not about to have her beauty sleep hindered when she would need it so badly to get Chuck Bass back. She wasn't goiing to take ths lying down.

She walked out of her room, and knocked firmly on the neighboring door. Good grief she could hear it even in the hallway.

The door didn't open. So she started knocking continuously until it would.

It still took them a full minute. She was so going to have the happy couple kicked out for indecent behavior.

The door swung open finally to reveal the entirely naked form of Chuck Bass. Complete with raging hard on.

"What the hell do you want-" he began furiously before his gaze finally registered her face.

They both could only stare in shock at each other, the seconds passing silently until the woman in the room broke it.

"Ch-u-ck," she drew out the name in an annoyed, and accented, voice.

Blair could see under the opening of Chuck's arm, even in the dark of the room, the beautiful, model-like woman lying on the bed, totally naked. Her eyes flew to Chuck's once more, before she started to run down the hall.

It was a stupid move. She should have just locked herself back in her room. But her thoughts were in such a shock that she couldn't be relied upon for rational thinking.

"Shit- Blair!" she heard him call from down the hall, but it didn't stop her. She pressed the button for the elevator hurriedly and prayed that it would get here quickly.

It seemed her prayer was answered when the doors dinged open, but just as she pressed the doors-close button, a half-naked Chuck Bass ran through the doorway.

They stared at each other, taking in the fact that he was only wearing a towel and she a silk pajama set, both breathing hard from their respective runs. Blair was the first to recover her senses.

"Get out!" she yelled, pushing at his chest towards the door, but they had already closed and the elevator was moving. "I don't want to see your face ever again!"

"What are you doing here, Waldorf?" he demanded, not moving an inch from his spot.

She moved to one side of the elevator, as far as possible from him. "Oh nothing, Bass! Don't you know, everyone spends Christmas in Monaco nowadays."

"Just tell me, Blair," he ground out. "What are you doing here?"

"To calculate the number of whores to women ratio. Looks like it's pretty high here, especially around you."

He crossed his arms. "I haven't done anything wrong. I seem to recall you saying that we were over and, oh yes, you sleeping with Nate."

She gasped slightly. "How do you know about that?"

He glared at her. "I saw you together."

The doors opened suddenly to an older couple standing in the doorway. They stared at the Blair and Chuck taking in his half-naked state and her in her pajamas, standing with their arms crossed on opposite ends of the elevator.

"We'll take the next one," the old woman said and smiled at her husband before whispering to him loudly, "young lovers."

Chuck and Blair both grimaced as the doors closed once again. Blair looked down at the floor as she spoke.

"Well, I came to apologize. I thought I had made a mistake, but clearly I was wrong."

Chuck stepped towards her, wrapping a hand around her arm. "Just tell me what you want, Blair."

She swallowed. Maybe it was the intensity in his voice, or the look in his eyes that finally made her break down her defenses. "I don't want Nate. That's what I realized that night.I told him it was over, and then I came here because I wanted..." she trailed off, unable to say the rest and averting her eyes.

Chuck put a finger under her chin and raised it slowly until her eyes met his once again. A small smile crept on his face. "I want you too, Waldorf. I realized something as well: no other woman has been able to compare to you."

She stared at him because they were the most lovely words she had ever heard from his mouth, from anyone's mouth actually. She brought his lips down to hers and kissed him fervently.

When the broke apart, he wrapped his arms around her, and smiled. "Clean slate for the both of us, agreed?"

She nodded, running her fingers along his bare chest. He shivered slightly, and she felt a poke from beneath his towel.

"C'mon," he murmured, pressing the button for their floor. "Let's go annoy our other neighbors."


End file.
